Maybe You’re Not Too Much: Understanding Highly Sensitive People

Have you ever been told you are too much?

Too sensitive.Too emotional.Too intense.Too caring.Too affected by things that other people seem to brush off.

For a long time, I had a nagging sense that I was somehow different.

The story I told myself about that difference was often an internal narrative:

I am just too much.

Too intense. Too sensitive. Too giving to others. Too affected by the world around me.

I couldn't quite understand why things seemed to affect me so deeply, why I noticed things other people didn't seem to notice, or why I sometimes needed more time than others to process experiences and emotions.

About fifteen years ago, I completed the Myers-Briggs personality assessment and was identified as an INFJ. At the time, I remember being struck by the idea that this was one of the less common personality types. It gave me a language to begin understanding that perhaps the way I experienced the world wasn't necessarily wrong—it was simply different from the way many other people experienced it.

More recently, I came across the body of work exploring highly sensitive people (HSPs).

And when I first discovered it, I had the extraordinary experience of feeling as though someone had been reading my mind.

It was such a strong feeling of being seen.

Suddenly, experiences that I had often interpreted as personal shortcomings began to make sense. Perhaps I wasn't "too sensitive." Perhaps I was someone whose nervous system was more sensitive to the world around me.

And perhaps there was nothing wrong with that.

What does it mean to be highly sensitive?

The term highly sensitive person was coined by clinical psychologist Dr Elaine Aron, whose work in this area began in the 1990s. She describes high sensitivity as a temperament trait associated with deeper processing of sensory, emotional and social information.

The scientific term often used for this trait is sensory processing sensitivity (SPS).

Research suggests that approximately 15–20% of people may have this trait. Importantly, it is understood as an innate temperament characteristic rather than a disorder or diagnosis, and similar patterns of environmental sensitivity have been observed across a range of species.

You can explore Dr Aron's work, including resources and self-assessment questionnaires, at hsperson.com.

Another fascinating body of research comes from developmental paediatrician Dr Thomas Boyce, whose work explores the concept of "orchid" and "dandelion" children. His research suggests that some children are more biologically sensitive to their environments than others. These children may struggle more in adverse environments, but can also flourish more profoundly in supportive and nurturing ones.

His book, The Orchid and the Dandelion: Why Some Children Struggle and How All Can Thrive, explores this idea in depth.

You can also watch his TED Talk here.

What I find so interesting about this research is the shift in perspective.

Sensitivity isn't necessarily a weakness.

It may be a characteristic that makes us more responsive to our environments—for better and for worse.

The Highly Sensitive Nervous System

A highly sensitive person may process information more deeply than others. This can mean noticing subtle details, changes in someone's tone of voice, facial expressions, shifts in mood, or the atmosphere in a room.

We may notice what hasn't been said as much as what has.

We may pick up on the tension between two people before anyone else acknowledges it.

We may sense that someone isn't okay when they insist they are.

We may walk into a room and immediately feel that something is different.

Sometimes this can feel like a gift.

Sometimes it can feel exhausting.

The research into sensory processing sensitivity is often described through four key characteristics, sometimes represented by the acronym DOES:

Depth of Processing

Highly sensitive people tend to process experiences deeply. We may think about conversations long after they have happened, reflect on the meaning behind an experience, or consider multiple perspectives before reaching a conclusion.

A simple interaction can sometimes stay with us for days.

We don't just experience something.

We process it.

We turn it over. We examine it. We wonder about it. We connect it to other experiences.

This depth of processing can contribute to creativity, insight, intuition and thoughtful decision-making—but it can also make it difficult to simply "let things go."

Overstimulation

Because we are taking in so much information, we can reach our threshold for stimulation more quickly.

Crowds. Noise. Bright lights. Busy environments. Multiple conversations. Constant interruptions. Long days without a break.

What might feel energising or manageable to someone else can become overwhelming for a highly sensitive person.

Sometimes the result is exhaustion.

Sometimes irritability.

Sometimes the need to withdraw completely from the world for a while.

For me, understanding this has been particularly helpful. The need for quiet isn't necessarily avoidance. The need to be alone isn't necessarily rejection.

Sometimes it is simply the nervous system saying:

I've taken in enough. I need time to process.

Emotional Responsiveness and Empathy

Many highly sensitive people experience emotions deeply and have a strong capacity for empathy.

We may feel joy intensely.

We may experience grief deeply.

We may be profoundly moved by music, art, nature or beauty.

And we may also be deeply affected by the suffering of others.

The challenge is that empathy can sometimes become emotional absorption.

We can take on the feelings of the people around us without even realising it.

Someone else's distress becomes our distress.

Someone else's anxiety becomes our anxiety.

Someone else's disappointment can feel like our failure.

Learning the difference between empathy and responsibility can therefore be an important part of living well as a highly sensitive person.

I can care deeply about what someone is experiencing without needing to carry it for them.

Sensing the Subtle

Highly sensitive people may be particularly attuned to small changes in their environment.

A shift in someone's tone.

A facial expression.

A pause in conversation.

A change in the atmosphere of a room.

A subtle change in someone's behaviour.

Sometimes this awareness is incredibly useful. It can help us build strong relationships, anticipate needs and respond with compassion.

But it can also lead to overthinking.

Did I say something wrong?

Why did their tone change?

Are they upset with me?

What does that look mean?

The ability to notice subtle cues is not the same as always interpreting them correctly. This is where grounding, communication and reality-checking can become important.

Sometimes the best response to our intuition is not to immediately believe it, but to become curious about it.

The gift and the challenge of sensitivity

One of the ideas I find most interesting in the research is the concept of differential susceptibility.

The basic idea is that people who are more sensitive to their environments may be more affected by both negative and positive experiences.

In difficult environments, sensitivity can make a person more vulnerable to stress.

But in nurturing, supportive environments, that same sensitivity may allow them to benefit more deeply.

In other words, the very characteristic that can make someone more vulnerable can also be the characteristic that allows them to flourish.

This resonates with me.

Because perhaps the question isn't:

How do I become less sensitive?

Perhaps the better question is:

What kind of environment allows my sensitivity to become a strength?

When we are supported, understood and given space to regulate, highly sensitive people may bring extraordinary strengths to their relationships, families and workplaces.

Creativity.

Compassion.

Deep listening.

Intuition.

Attention to detail.

Emotional insight.

The ability to notice what others miss.

A strong appreciation of beauty and meaning.

A capacity for deep and meaningful relationships.

And perhaps most importantly, a profound ability to care.

The importance of rest and boundaries

For many highly sensitive people, rest isn't a luxury.

It is a necessity.

Downtime allows the nervous system to process everything it has absorbed.

Quiet.

Nature.

Time alone.

Creative activities.

Sleep.

Movement.

Being with people who feel safe.

These things can help us return to ourselves.

Boundaries are equally important.

Highly sensitive people can sometimes struggle to say no because we can easily imagine how our decision might affect someone else. We may anticipate their disappointment, understand their needs, or feel responsible for their emotions.

But saying no doesn't mean we don't care.

It means we are recognising that our own capacity matters too.

A useful question can be:

Is this mine to carry?

Not every emotion belongs to us.

Not every problem is ours to solve.

Not every request requires a yes.

And sometimes protecting our energy is not selfish.

It is how we ensure that when we do show up for others, we can do so wholeheartedly.

What the emerging research tells us

If you're a nerd like me, you might be interested in some of the emerging research into sensory processing sensitivity.

Recent work is continuing to explore how sensory processing sensitivity may influence the way people perceive, process and respond to their environments.

For example, research by Kondo and Pressnitzer (2026) examining auditory processing suggests that sensory processing sensitivity may be associated with differences in how auditory information is perceptually organised. This adds to a growing body of research exploring whether highly sensitive people may genuinely process sensory information differently, rather than simply being "more emotional" or "overreacting."

Other emerging research, including work presented by Inomoto (2026), has explored differences in resting-state EEG synchrony associated with sensory processing sensitivity. While this is an early area of research and should be interpreted cautiously, it contributes to the broader scientific exploration of how sensitivity may be reflected in underlying patterns of brain activity.

Research into environmental sensitivity is also continuing to explore the concept of differential susceptibility. A 2026 scoping review by Nhem and colleagues examined how sensitivity to social environments may interact with mental health across adulthood.

The emerging picture is complex, but fascinating.

Our environments matter.

Our relationships matter.

Our childhood experiences matter.

And for people who are more sensitive to their environments, the quality of those experiences may have an especially profound impact.

This doesn't mean our childhood determines our future. Nor does it mean that everyone who has experienced adversity will develop mental health difficulties.

But it does remind us that healing matters.

If we have experienced difficult or unsafe environments, we may need support to understand how those experiences continue to shape the way we respond to the world.

And perhaps one of the most hopeful aspects of this research is that sensitivity is not simply about vulnerability.

It is also about possibility.

Maybe you're not too much

I think back to the person who carried around that quiet belief:

I am just too much.

Too sensitive.

Too intense.

Too emotional.

Too giving.

I wonder now how different things might have felt if I had understood earlier that sensitivity was not something I needed to apologise for.

Of course, being highly sensitive doesn't explain everything about who we are. We are complex human beings, shaped by our temperament, our experiences, our relationships, our culture and our environments.

And sensitivity doesn't give us a free pass. We are still responsible for learning how to regulate our emotions, communicate clearly, respect boundaries and take responsibility for our actions.

But perhaps understanding our sensitivity can help us meet ourselves with a little more compassion.

Maybe we don't need to become less sensitive.

Maybe we need to become more skilled at caring for our sensitive nervous systems.

Maybe we need to choose environments that allow us to thrive.

Maybe we need to stop confusing sensitivity with weakness.

And maybe, sometimes, when someone tells us we are "too much," we can pause before accepting their definition of us.

Perhaps we can ask instead:

Too much for what?

Too much for whom?

Because sometimes the qualities that feel like "too much" in one environment are exactly the qualities that make us deeply valued in another.

Your sensitivity may mean you feel more.

You may notice more.

You may think more deeply.

You may care more.

And yes, sometimes you may need more quiet, more recovery, more boundaries and more time to process.

But perhaps that doesn't mean you are too much.

Perhaps it simply means you are someone who experiences the world deeply.

And perhaps the work isn't to make yourself smaller.

Perhaps the work is to learn how to live fully, and kindly, in the nervous system you have.